


Surprise!

by names_are_boring



Series: Countdown to Christmas [5]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Christmas fic, I hate tags, M/M, sherlock does stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-26 23:03:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17150732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/names_are_boring/pseuds/names_are_boring
Summary: I bet you thought this would be a serious fic and not crack. I thought I should end this series with some crack. Ships are tagged, use your imagination, but you can’t guess or predict what’s going to happen next.





	Surprise!

***

Sherlock zipped around the kitchen as his robe twirled behind him. He had planned every second, every minute, and every hour of his day. Sherlock mentally went over his checklist. 

Breakfast in bed  
Visit Johns sister  
Go have lunch with Harry  
Go to the shops  
Experiments 

Wait, he promised John no experiments today. Never mind, he’ll do something else instead. 

Christmas sex  
Make John go to bed early  
Capture the fat intruder 

Sherlock knew what he wanted to do, and how it would play out. He only hoped John wouldn’t catch on. 

*** 

Johns day started off like a dream. He was awoken by a sea of kisses that covered his forehead and cheeks. Sherlock then went on to place a tray into his lap, filled with all his favorite breakfast foods. John smiled, this was unexpected. 

“Since when do you do romance? I thought that was for pedestrians?” John joked with a quirked eyebrow. Sherlock fought back a retort as he squirmed around. He mumbled something about it being a holiday and normal people do it. John didn’t push him for any details or an explanation. 

After breakfast, John got dressed and cleaned the flat. Sherlock trailed behind him, but didn’t offer to help clean, which was normal. John brushed it off since he was in a good mood from breakfast. 

An hour before noon, they went to Harry’s flat. She threw the door open before he could knock on it. Harry’s excited (and sober) grin caught John off guard. She flung herself at him with a bit of force, sending him back a step. Sherlock smirked at him, then frowned when she turned her attentions to him. 

“Sherlock, it’s been too long. Why haven’t you called? Oh, don’t answer that, you were probably too busy banging my brother.” And with that, she turned and walked inside, leaving John looking like a burn victim. 

They all went to lunch at noon. Harry talked their ears off about her new girlfriend and how she’s the love of her life. Sherlock rolled his eyes at her statement, then proceeded to explain to her the chemical reaction that happens when one ‘falls in love’ and how it isn’t anything special, which gained him a swift kick, under the table, from John. 

John hated shopping. He hated it with a passion, but he knew Harry did too, so they didn’t stay too long. Harry ran around, by herself, for ten minutes, then came back with a wacky grin plastered across her face. She held something behind her back, but wouldn’t show it. Clearly, she’d done some shopping. 

“I bought you something.” Her wicked smirk almost scared John. He turned to look at Sherlock, who was scrutinizing Harry’s stance. 

“Yes, that much is obvious.” He commented in a bored tone. Sherlock watched as she whispered something into Johns ear, then glared as he broke out into a fit of laughter. John laughed so hard that he began crying. 

“What is it?” Sherlock snapped, not liking not knowing something. 

“John can give it to you later.” She winked at her brother as she passed him the bag. John finally calmed down long enough to take it from her. 

When they got home, John ran off to their bedroom. He said he needed time to get things together. Sherlock was suspicious, but didn’t fight it. He needed John in a good mood for his plan to work out. Sherlock was going through the files that sat on his desk when John walked up to him with a wrapped box in his hands and an obnoxiously loud smirk on his face. 

“This is from Harry.” He shoved the box into Sherlock’s hands. The detective eyed it cautiously, then decided John wouldn’t give him any explosives, so the box must be safe. What he got when he opened the box, was not something he was ready for. 

“It’s a box.” Sherlock stared blankly at John. 

“Open the box, Sherlock.” John had to suppress a chuckle as he pulled his phone out of his pocket. Sherlock eyed him again, then ignored the fact that John was recording him. 

He looked down at the plane box in his hands and sighed. The box wasn’t small, but it wasn’t big either. It was wide enough to fit his laptop in, but it wasn’t very heavy. Rolling his eyes, Sherlock lifted the lid off the box and pulled out the stuffing. He stared down at the objects inside, then slowly looked back at John. 

“What is this?” He glared at the doctor, who was now laughing uncontrollably. His phone bounced along to his laughter. Sherlock pulled the model of the solar system out of the box and stared at the picture of Anderson that was taped to the sun. 

“Sherlock, what is it?” Johns giddy voice picked up as he motioned that he wanted to see the model. Sherlock glared at him as he slowly turned the model around so that Anderson’s picture faces the camera. John busted out into fresh bits of laughter. 

“You told everybody! John! Delete that blog!” Sherlock’s cheek tinted crimson at his embarrassment. Why did everybody have to know about it?! It didn’t matter that he didn’t care enough to learn about the solar system! 

John watched as his face scrunched into a pout and the tears rolled down his cheeks from his loss of control. John turned the phone off so he could wipe his eyes. He needed to get a grip on himself. 

“Sherlock, your-“ he took a deep breath in. “ your face! It’s priceless!” John laughed again before calming down. “Harry is a genius.” 

“I’m appalled.” Sherlock commented before dropping the model into the box. “That’s put a damper on my plans. I was going to take you to bed, John, but now I don't want to.” John stopped moving and shot him a look of panic. 

“Wait, What? No! Sherlock it was a joke! I know even you joke. Sherlock, don’t be rash, don’t pout, that’s not fair.” John protested to no avail. Sherlock sulked and stormed off with his head slumped.

“Oh, no, John! You soiled your chance!” He stomped off into the next room as John trailed behind him. 

***

Sherlock slid John's arm off his stomach, laying it back under the blanket. He’d been listening to his breathing for the past ten minutes to make sure John was fully asleep. He quietly crept off the bed and tiptoed to the door. When he attempted to slowly open it, it creaked, causing him to flinch then stare back at Johns sleeping form. 

Letting out a sigh of relief, Sherlock slipped past the door, closing it behind him. Now, down to business. The detective knew if he was to do this correctly, he needed his traps set perfectly and his bait needed to be visible. 

He went to work in the living room, setting up ropes, wires, cameras, and even a bear trap that he found online. With everything in place, minus the cookies, Sherlock sat down in the kitchen. The oven beeped, stirring him out of his thoughts. He popped the door open, pulled the cookies out using Johns mittens, then placed them out. He strategically arranged them on his festive, tree shape, plate right beside a glass of milk. 

Laying the snack in the middle of the floor beside the fireplace, Sherlock hid behind the wall by the hallway leading to his room. He crouched down, pulled his robe tightly around his body, then waited. It’s nearly midnight, hopefully this won’t take long. 

*** 

John rolled over in bed and was met with an empty, cold sheet. He rubbed his hand over the unnaturally hollow space and groaned. Wiping his face with his hand, he sluggishly got out of bed. It was chilly tonight, so instead of grabbing a shirt or pants, he wrapped the nearest blanket around his shoulders and headed to the door. When it freaked open, he was met by a dark hallway.

Squinting, he tried to make out the form at the end of the room. It looked like a blob, but it was moving. Oh my god, it was moving. John stood straighter and stared. Who the hell was in their flat? Where the hell was Sherlock? 

John flipped the switch to his left and almost came out of his skin when the figure he was staring at jumped up into the air at the sudden light. 

“Christ, Sherlock, what the hell are you doing?!” Johns voice came a bit too loud for his liking. He wasn’t expecting it to echo in the hallway, but it did just that. Sherlock shrunk back at the noise. 

“Shh, be quiet, John! I’m doing something!” Sherlock twirled around into a crouching position and peeked around the wall. John yawned then rubbed his eyes. He might as well go see what Sherlock is fixated on. 

“Sherlock, love, what did you do to our flat?” John took in the traps and crime tape that Sherlock placed all around their living room. “What in the name of..” Sherlock jumped up to place his hand over Johns mouth, shushing him. 

John was going to protest, but suddenly something fell out of the fireplace. Smoke filled the small room, then there was a thud. As the boys tried to focus on the fireplace, something rolled out from it. Sherlock gasped and grabbed Johns shoulder, yanking him to the floor. 

“Ooo~ yum!” The voice was a higher pitch than Sherlock expected. The smoke cleared enough for the boys to make out the form of the fictional figure. The light from their hallway was enough to expose the girl in their flat. 

“You’re not Santa!” Sherlock accused as he shot up and towards the girl in the Santa suit. She stopped before she could put the cookie in her mouth, and stared in horror at the detective. 

“Eh, how would you know Santa wasn’t a girl?” She shot back. Her kinky hair bounced out from underneath her red hat. The crimson colors of her suit complimented the carmel shades of her skin. 

“Who are you?” John piped up from behind the two. His blanket wasn’t covering much of his front, but he didn’t seem to mind. The girl wouldn’t look at him, something about staring at a half naked man just didn’t seem right to her. 

“I’m Adi.” She answered. Sherlock tilted his head to the side and stared at her quizzically. 

“Adi, who?” He questioned with much interests. 

“Adianna-jueaut Lisbette Veléz, and I’m the real Santa.” She stood proudly in the center of their room. John gaped at her, while Sherlock folded his arms across his chest. 

“No, you are not. Tell Mycroft that he’s wasted his money. I hope you were paid a lot, breaking into my flat is not a smart idea. I could have-“ Sherlock suddenly remembered something which caused him to twirl around the room. “Why didn’t my traps go off?” He shot over to the bear trap and poked it. It didn’t budge. 

“Mycroft…” Adi informed him. 

“So you admit to being one of his minions?” Sherlock huffed and stood up. Adi didn’t respond, just stayed still. John didn’t have time for this, he turned around and walked to their room. 

“Clean up your mess, Sherlock. Goodnight, Adi.” John waved over his shoulder before disappearing down the hall. 

“Night!” Adi called back. Sherlock glared at her for a moment before walking to the door. 

“Get out.” He pointed to the wood and frowned. 

“You don’t want to know how I got in or what I was paid? Or even who sent me and why?” She wasn’t ready to leave. She was promised an interesting conversation. Sherlock glared her way, then slumped his shoulders. 

“Mycroft sent you, claiming I was obsessed with capturing this fat man. He most likely told you a story of my youth, something sappy to get you hooked and then thought up this prank to spy on me. Good job, Mycroft, you already have cameras in my flat! What else do you want?” Sherlock huffed and motioned to the door once more. 

“Can I at least have a cookie before I leave?” Adi looked at the treats with a pleading gaze. 

“No, they’re poisoned.” Sherlock informed her. 

“What?! You want to kill Santa?” Adi gasped. 

“Out.” Sherlock opened the door and stared at it until she left. Mycroft was going to receive a severed head for Christmas. 

***

While whistling down the street, Jim slung a bag over his shoulder. 

“You know Seb, I’m going to miss this when we’re gone.” He looked ahead at the lights on the street. Seb looked down at him with a raised brow. 

“Why’s that?” He asked in a neutral tone. Jim turned to stare at him, then smirked. 

“Sherlock Holmes has no idea what I’ve got in store!” His sing song voice carried down the road. Seb noted the avoidance of his question. 

“No, he doesn’t.” Seb twisted his bag in his hands. “Say Boss, do ya think they will be turned off by all this?” He shook the bag for a second to show his meaning. 

“Probably not, Holmes likes dead things. I’m sure his doctor won’t appreciate a load of reindeer feet as a gift, but that’s too bad. He should learn to be grateful. Animal feet are good luck in some lands!” Jim smirked and twirled his heavy bag around. 

Seb didn’t know if it was wrong to be in love with a maniac, but he didn’t care enough to change anything. This Christmas has been quite eventful and worth all the bleach his clothes took in.

***

**Author's Note:**

> My friend Adi came up with Harry’s gift btw


End file.
